


Supernatural Avengers: Before Lucifer Crashed the Party

by Annehiggins



Category: Supernatural, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-23
Updated: 2013-11-23
Packaged: 2018-01-01 21:13:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annehiggins/pseuds/Annehiggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lot happened before Lucifer tried to conquer Earth and the Avengers formed. Gabriel was responsible for most of it. Draws heavily on modified concepts/some dialog of all the pre-<em>The Avengers</em> movies: <em>Iron Man 1 & 2, The Incredible Hulk, Thor, Captain America: The First Avenger. I own none of that!</em> <strong><em>Please</em> read the notes!</strong></p>
            </blockquote>





	Supernatural Avengers: Before Lucifer Crashed the Party

**Author's Note:**

> Since the fun in this comes from who got what role, I've put the cast list at the end of the story so those who wish to wait for full disclosure can. However, there is one cast addition. While he is left out of the movies, Baldur is also the son of Odin in both lore and the comics. He also made an appearance in SPN, so that's the image I used.
> 
> This is more a series of scenes narrated by Gabriel that was going to lead into _The Avengers versus the Apocalypse_ than a stand-alone story. Most of the changes revolve around the Thor and Iron Man movies; while next to nothing needed to be changed about the Captain America and Hulk flicks, so those get very little focus as this is about what changes, not what stays the same.
> 
> I wrote this within weeks of seeing _The Avengers_ to keep the as-yet-unwritten Supernatural-Avengers story from suffocating under the weight of exposition and to let me/readers track what changed and what didn't when Dean and crew were to take over the storyline. But then I got into writing "real" Avengers fic followed by a serious illness. I doubt I'll write that Supernatural-Avengers story now, but I thought I'd go ahead and share what I did do rather than leave a completed story languishing on my hard drive. 
> 
> Again, this is 99.9 percent tell, not show and it's me playing around with an omniscient POV (Gabriel's – with what one can assume was an assist from Heimdall) for the first and probably last time as I vastly prefer a 'single-character per scene' POV style. Finally, Gabriel's explanation of life, universe and everything is grounded in the Hindu faith with my own touches of blasphemy.

**_Thor,_ Act 1**

As Gabriel understood it the universe was once one giant … One. Hard for a One to know itself so it began to fragment, creating what became the universe as humans would come to understand it. Flash forward a few trillion years (give or take a billion or more depending on location) and sentient beings began to develop.

Like the universe itself, they, too, struggled to understand the universe and religion began to develop. The One responded by sending aspects/pieces of itself to various worshippers, some of which took on personalities that lingered and solidified until they became entities in their own right.

Gabriel's true Father had been among them. Contrary to human belief, his Father did not create them. Nor did anything else humans evolved on a relatively new world could imagine. However, He did give life to the angels and through Lucifer's fall, demons. Or at least that's what Gabriel had heard through the old cosmic grapevine. He'd split before his big brother took the big swan dive into infamy. Just couldn't take all the damned fighting ripping his family apart, so yeah, out of there.

But the story went something like this. Father had decided to retire from the whole Creator gig, but was torn between naming Michael or Lucifer as the next Big Cheese. He went off to meditate on the matter and Lucifer decided to make a power grab in His absence. He and their oldest brother got into a dust up. When the proverbial smoke cleared, the connection between Earth and Heaven was severed and Lucifer had tumbled into the wilds of the universe. After that Father decided to further isolate Heaven and He and the Host pretty much exited a cosmic stage left. Echoes of the whole thing made the bestseller list, but no, Gabriel didn't see any of it, so he couldn't really say what was and wasn't real. In fact, in a lot of ways, he really didn't want to know.

As it happened, when it all went down he was in Asgard. Hiding. From Father and the Host. See it wasn't exactly allowed for one of the archangels to take a powder, and Gabriel had needed to go to some lengths to hide his identity. First was a lucky break – his destined vessel had been wounded in one of the numerous battles the folk up north loved so much, and Gabriel took possession of the body in the split second between the soul flying off to Valhalla and death. Left him alone inside the vessel and let his grace settle in to mimic a soul. Since anything tracking him was looking for a body inhabited by both grace _and_ a subjugated human soul, he had the time he needed to reshape his powers with a healthy assist from all the belief floating around.

Norse gods were pretty new at the time and it was fairly easy to absorb a suitable aspect into his own being. Even though he never lost his sense of who he truly was, to those who prayed to him he was Loki, the silver-tongued trickster, and a master of illusion given form. To his surprise/relief, the other denizens of Asgard welcomed him into their fold. Odin Allfather and his wife, Frigga, even looked upon him as a son, giving him the affection his true Father had denied him while their true son, Baldur, viewed him as a big brother. It went without saying that he was determined not to let his little bro down the way his older brothers had him.

He was happy. Really, done with Heaven. Period. Stop. Except when Michael and Lucifer had their epic slapdown, he couldn't stop himself from snagging some collateral damage. A seraphim had tried to protect the entry to Father's meditation retreat against Lucifer. Had even managed to delay Lucifer a few seconds until Michael had arrived, but the angel had ended up thrown halfway across the galaxy for his trouble. So, yeah, Gabriel literally snagged him and rushed him off to Asgard. By the time the healers finished, Heaven had changed its zip code, stranding the baby angel outside the proverbial pearly gates.

The kid, Castiel, could have taken his vessel, but Gabriel knew that would mean the slow loss of grace into humanity. Um, no. He had a bright shiny new baby bro and he was not going to let him go all mortal. Enter amazing illusion powers. He used Castiel's vessel as a model, creating sort of what humans would later call a clone, then added in a newer Norse aspect trying to come into being. And thus – hey, he could do formal speech if he had to – Thor was born. Even if, like Gabriel, he never lost his prior life.

Like Gabriel, Castiel quickly became a son to Odin and Frigga; a brother, to Baldur. And even if Castiel was a bad fit visually and temperamentally for the big, berserker most pictured when praying to the thunder god, it was a good life. The sort one could easily have lived for all eternity. No, of course, it couldn't last.

The end came when the frost giants decided to declare war. It had happened before. The most recent had been notable for the theft of the Tesseract – an object given great power by the shifting of Heaven to a different reality. The damned thing had gotten lost Earth-side, and since it wasn't labeled, humans gave it a new name – the Holy Grail. Never popped up long enough for Asgard to get it back, but at least the stupid frost giants hadn't managed it either.

Seemed to think it was on Asgard and that it belonged to them, so hey, fun idea, time for another war. Asgard won, they always did, and it really chaffed Gabriel's cookies that humans had decided he came from frosty stock. But victory came at a cost. Once again Castiel got between something a lot nastier than him and a parent. Frigga this time. He won. Saved Mom and everything, but the battle left him hemorrhaging grace like blood spraying from a major artery.

His healing powers long ago transformed into his trickster abilities, Gabriel could not stop it. Impotent, he held his baby brother in his arms as he died. Except … Yes, there was a way. He kissed Castiel on the forehead, told him he loved him, then hurtled him out of Asgard down to Earth. Instead of the fast bleed, he yanked out every trace of grace from his brother's falling body, shoving it inside the hammer, Mjolnir, for safe keeping while guiding Castiel's essence into the womb of his living vessel's wife.

**_Captain America: The First Avenger,_ Act I**

Amelia Novak gave birth to a son on July 4, 1912. As they'd planned, the new parents named him after his father, James. But the doctors said the baby might not live, so instead of his father's middle name, they decided to give him an angel's name. His birth date a Thursday, they chose Castiel, hopping the angel would become the struggling infant's guardian.

A nice thought, but his guardian angel's name was Gabriel, and in those early days, he never left his re-born brother's side. Not that anyone could see him. Like he'd said, he'd lost the ability to heal when he'd become more a son of Asgard than a creation of Heaven, but he could slowly ease energy into the baby. Enough for him to survive, but he couldn't risk more than that, so Castiel remained a sickly child and a poster boy for stunted growth. 

Good thing, he had a former archangel watching over him and a swiftly growing talent for drawing to compensate for a depressing list of aliments. Kid seemed happy enough, and with another subtle mental nudge from Gabriel – for the record, that was all he could manage, direct-influence-wise – his human parents called him Castiel, not Jimmy. So it was all good. Or at least as good as things ever got for mortals.

Right, too good to last. Again. War came along to rain on yet another parade and James shipped out to Europe to serve with the 107th Infantry. Gabriel had seen a lot of war – Norse god here – but this one impressed even him in the levels of bloodshed and stupidity. Humans called it the Great War, the War to End All Wars. Yeah, like that was going to happen. James never came home. Neither did the father of Castiel's best friend, Adam Milligan. But Castiel had his mother; Adam, his grandmother, and much as Gabriel would have liked to stick around 24/7, he had responsibilities as both the Trickster and a son of Asgard.

Unfortunately Castiel hadn't changed. He still didn't back down from a fight, still had a burning need to protect the world from bullies. Meant he got beat up a lot when Gabriel wasn't around to arrange for a convenient turn of a douche's ankle (usually resulting in a broken one because he was just vindictive that way.) At least Adam picked up a lot of the slack on the anti-bully initiative. Even though both Gabriel and Adam knew it had to half-kill Castiel to have his younger friend always charging to his rescue.

Amelia died of TB a few weeks after Castiel got old enough no one considered throwing him into an orphanage. Adam's grandmother passed the following year so neither woman lived to see that Gabriel had called it on the 'so not the war to end all etcetera.' Then Pearl Harbor happened. Naturally, his all-too-noble baby bro couldn't take advantage of the one silver lining to the whole sickly thing, and tried to enlist with Adam. Milligan got in, Castiel didn't. So he kept trying. Over and over again.

The night before Sergeant Adam Milligan shipped out, Castiel finally got 'lucky' and caught the eye of yet another mad scientist out to improve humanity. Although this one didn't seem that bad. Was an idiot beneath the brilliance, but at least he wasn't an evil idiot. No way the super-soldier formula would work without disastrous side effects, but it gave Gabriel an idea. He perfected it while he enjoyed watching Castiel chip away at every objection Colonel Bobby Singer had to his being the test subject while slowly charming his way into Agent Deanna Oliver's heart.

That last part almost gave him pause. If he wasn't a selfish-immortal he would have simply interfered with the experiment so it didn't hurt Castiel and let him live out his life with the lovely Deanna. But he couldn't stand to watch his baby brother age and die. So when the nasty chemical mix and machinery tried to do its work, he kept the lights going, made it all look convincing, but stopped it all from doing anything. Instead, he carefully feed some more of Castiel's grace back into him. It had taken a long time to figure out exactly how much his brother could handle, could retain without literally exploding, but Gabriel drew the grace through Mjolnir into his own spear, shaped it, then sent it into Castiel.

When it was over, Castiel emerged from the pod, taller and looking as fit and healthy as James Novak had been. Still not the tall, broad-shouldered warrior his public expected/wanted, and despite the miraculous transformation there were murmurs of disappointment. Gabriel rolled his eyes and turned his attention to figuring out a way to muck up the works to prevent a second try with someone who would not come out whole.

For better or worse, a Hydra sleeper agent took care of the problem and Castiel showed everyone while he might look no more or less impressive than his late father, he was every inch the super-soldier they'd all hoped for. And why shouldn't he be? A kiss of the power of an angel who had also once been Thor whispered through his veins.

*

Gabriel watched the plane crash into an arctic wasteland and once again found himself at a crossroads. He could pull Castiel's swiftly freezing body out of the wreckage and give him back the life he'd been born to. Could let him marry Deanna; call Samuel Campbell his friend; and have Colonel Singer as his father-figure/mentor. Was it a kindness? Eventually his little brother would have to bury each and every one of them. Mourn them as he had Adam and the other Howling Commandos who had fallen under his command. Nothing Gabriel could do would spare him that pain.

Except for Campbell, who he had serious reservations about, they all seemed like decent people, but they did not have the spark in them. Did not have a soul old enough, strong enough for Gabriel to use an even smaller kiss of Castiel's grace to bind them to his baby brother. Those souls would come one day. It was inevitable, but millennia could pass until the first appeared. Was it cruel or kind to make Castiel live through all those funerals between now and then?

"Feel like I'm playing the villain role in some folktale, but I can't watch that break you." And it would. Perhaps so much that he'd never be able to respond to those destined to be his companions for at least the lifetime of the planet beneath them.

He punished himself by staying with Castiel until he froze solid – although he did grant his brother the illusion of a painless, swift end. When it was over Gabriel rose to go, but stopped. A staggering amount of time as mortals measured things could pass. Possibly enough to even register on a god's consciousness. Castiel's human-mind could no more survive that than his soul could withstand one loss after another. But an angel could. Thor could. And full knowledge of what Gabriel had done seemed a fitting penance for depriving his little brother of choice.

Gabriel touched two fingers to the icy skin between Castiel's brows and granted him a dream wrapped in an illusion. "Sleep well, baby bro," he whispered. "Sleep and remember who and what you once were." He managed a faint echo of his trademarked smirk. "And I won't even stop you from kicking my ass when you wake up."

As he had when they'd parted in Asgard, Gabriel kissed him on the forehead. When he vanished, he wrapped the area of the crash in an illusion that would thwart all searchers. No one would find Captain America until Loki willed it.

**The Winchesters**

Gabriel had pushed the edge of what he could get away with on Earth. Gods had rules. And one of them was no direct interference without at least an indirect prayer. Pretty much ignored the hell out of that one with everything he'd done for Castiel.

Odin let him get away with it because he dearly loved Castiel as well, but yeah, pushing it big time. It helped that every 'hope s/he gets what's coming to her/him' wish sort of came under the heading of a prayer to a trickster god. And Loki was the most popular of that corner of the godhead. Even people who would never think of him as other than a malicious myth knew his name, knew his purpose, so he spent more time boots on the ground than any other deity. And every single time he traveled the bifrost to Earth, he took the time to look in on Castiel's former friends.

Heartbroken by Castiel's loss, Deanna had turned to Samuel for solace. It was more a union of companions than lovers, and passion seldom sparked between them. So it did not surprise Gabriel they remained childless for many years. Samuel was less than thrilled when the child born on the very edge of too late turned out to be a daughter. But Mary was magnificent. She'd inherited Deanna's beauty as well as her courage and compassion. Her genius she owed to Samuel. And while it wasn't genetic, Gabriel decided she'd gotten her stubbornness from her godfather, Bobby Singer.

Thank Odin for Singer. Her father saw her as 'his greatest creation.' Gabriel knew that pride-not-love sort of neglect all too well, but she had a mother and Singer to pick up the slack. More than once, Gabriel found himself wishing Deanna would ditch the jerk and marry Singer, but the love of her life was dead and it never seemed to occur to her to seek a different life companion. And she made it work.

Without Deanna at his side, Samuel would have focused exclusively on weapons. But his wife was there to guide him to defensive as well as offensive toys. And she made certain a hefty chunk of the Campbell fortune made its way to charities. When Bobby wasn't caught up in one war or another, he dropped in to keep both mother and daughter from losing touch with reality outside of the near-obscene wealth surrounding them.

Years later it was Bobby who introduced Mary to a corporal who had served under his command in Vietnam. At first Mary and John Winchester didn't care much for each other, but all those sparks between them had to lead to either murder or the bedroom. Right up to the minute John proposed, Gabriel was still betting it was even money which way it would all turn out.

Samuel was not pleased. He'd wanted Mary to follow in his footsteps – a marriage to science first and foremost – or at least marry someone more in line with their status. When she and John eloped, he cut her off. Of course, Deanna did not, and she bought them a house in John's hometown of Lawrence, Kansas, as a wedding present. She also made them promise to let her pay for any grandchildren's education.

Beyond that the young couple was determined to make it on their own. Mary got a job teaching science at a local high school while John worked at an auto repair shop. He was good and by the time their son was two, he'd become co-owner. They named the boy Dean, after Deanna. And there was something about him. A very old soul. Perhaps even 'the' soul and hoped stirred that he would not have to leave Castiel frozen for millennia.

As he had the boy's mother, Bobby became Dean's godfather. Now head of a secret spy-type organization and based out of New York, he was able to spend even more time with Dean than he had Mary. All that love made the kid flourish. Only stumble along the way was when his parents told him he was getting a baby brother or sister. Dean was less than certain he wanted to share with the promised newcomer, but he seemed pleased when his father told him it what a great responsibility this was. He and Dean's mother were trusting him to be a good big brother, to look after the baby when they could not. Dean's eyes widened and he promised nothing would ever happen to Sammy or Samantha while he was around.

Gabriel snorted when he overheard the named planned for the future newborn. Mary was not her father's biggest fan, and John certainly didn't care for them, but they'd decided naming the child after Samuel might cool the man's anger enough he stopped making life hell for Deanna every time she came to see them. Yeah, not this side of Ragnarok, but hope springs yada yada. Although after little Sammy was born and nothing changed, Deanna started talking about leaving Samuel, so hey, things were looking up and all that. Except. …

As he had been during the destruction of his own family, Gabriel was occupied in Asgard when the fire destroyed the Winchesters. Once again he heard the grim details second-hand. Fire had broken out in the nursery. Mary had been trapped by the flames. John had spared a few precious seconds to hand Sammy to Dean and told him to run, before trying to save his wife. He had failed and had died himself as well.

Estranged from his daughter for almost ten years and with no emotional ties whatsoever to her sons, Samuel had no real interest in giving the boys a home. His partner, Zachariah Adler, was the one who convinced him what a public relations nightmare it would cause to avoid doing what was expected of him. So in the end Samuel agreed. On one condition. If the boys were going to be his heirs, they were going to have his name, not some insignificant mechanic's. Deanna allowed it to happen for a condition of her own – Samuel could never do anything to keep Bobby away from the boys. Got it in writing, too.

With one stroke of a judge's pen Dean and Sam Winchester became Dean and Sam Campbell. Losing his father's name seemed to push Dean over the edge and he didn't talk for almost two years. Except when no one else was around, he talked to his brother. And every single night, he softly sang Sammy to sleep. Just like their mother had always done.

**The Campbells**

The Campbell Estate not a particularly happy home, Deana was surprised when Dean said he didn't want to go to boarding school. Gabriel wasn't. Kid took that promise he'd made to his father to look after Sammy seriously, so the constant refusals to get the hell out of there made sense. As did the sudden capitulation the instant Sam was old enough to go with him.

Both of the boys loved school. It got them away from Samuel's cold indifference, while both their grandmother and Bobby visited them often. Recognizing his beloved godfather was pushing his nineties, Dean started encouraging Bobby to tell stories about his past and recorded every word so he'd always have something of the man. He especially loved the ones about his dad.

Dean remembered his parents, their loss an ever present ache, and he mourned Sam hadn't even a vague memory of them. Bobby did the best he could, but he hadn't known Dad for long, and Sam was a big fangirl who constantly steered story time to World War II and Captain America. Dean appreciated the concept of the long-dead hero, and Castiel Novak was one of the few people who had earned his grandfather's respect. But he also knew that his death had all but destroyed his grandmother, so good old Cap wasn't his favorite subject. But his policy had been 'whatever Sammy needed' for long enough it never even occurred to him to object.

*

Between Dean's ninth birthday and Sam's fifth something happened that managed to catch even Gabriel by complete surprise. John Winchester escaped from Hydra. The pyrotechnics surrounding John and Mary's bid for freedom drew his attention, but even Gabriel could only move so fast, and in those precious seconds, Mary was killed and John badly injured.

Gabriel took a risk and teleported both Mary's body and John miles away from any pursuit. Totally outside of any wiggle room on the old cosmic directive, but he'd come to care about them while he'd watched over Dean's first four years. Taking the 'in for a penny; in for a pound' philosophy, he used a quick series of illusions to lead help to John. His spear grew hot in his hand – a warning from Odin not to push it any further – but he'd done what he needed to do.

John lost an eye, but he survived. Maybe that tipped Odin's sympathies in his favor. Whatever the reason, Odin did not immediately call him home. The king of curiosity, he stuck around to find out how two people had managed to wipe out a Hydra base five years after their own funerals.

Bobby showed up to debrief John. At the spry age of 92, Bobby was, and had been for the last 30 years, the director of the Strategic Hazard Intervention Espionage Logistics Directorate (SHIELD.) Thing grew out of his work with Samuel, Deanna and Castiel back in WW II. No big surprise, Hydra was not on his Christmas list. "What the hell happened to you, boy?" he demanded the moment he strode into John's hospital room.

Half-dead and grief-stricken over the loss of his wife, John rallied enough to demand his own answers first, "Dean, Sam?"

Bobby softened. "They're fine. Cooling their heels in a fancy prep school with better security than most military bases. And I've put a few of my own on guard detail, too."

"Thank God," he whispered and the relief seemed to make him dizzy for a moment.

"John," Bobby gripped his shoulder. "I need to know what happened."

He managed a small nod. "Wanted Mary to build them weapons. Took me along to make certain she did." Except Mary Winchester had managed to convince them she was cooperating without giving them anything of real worth. For five years. She was that good. Even gained enough trust to finally get what she needed to put together a series of bombs that destroyed the base. "But we had to move sooner than we'd planned and we didn't have time to get clear. …" John's voice trailed off and a tear slid from his remaining eye.

Debrief took a few days as John drifted in and out of consciousness. A lot of what John could tell him centered on the base commander – Azazel Mars. He'd been there every step from the fire that destroyed their lives to the night before the escape. But he'd left unexpectedly and the next thing the two Winchesters had known, everyone was packing up to move to a new location. They'd had no choice but to trigger the bombs.

As he talked John got stronger, and a quietness settled over him that even Gabriel found unnerving. Bobby didn't seem to like the look of it much either. "I can have the boys here by morning."

"No," John said. He said he'd decided it was better he stayed dead. "They'll be safer that way."

"Safer from what?"

"Azazel. I'm going after him. With or without SHIELD's help, but that bastard's mine."

Bobby did everything he could to talk him out of it. Called him 'idjit' and told him his boys needed him, but John had convinced himself his sons would never be safe as long as Azazel lived. Grudgingly, Gabriel agreed.

Eventually so did Bobby. He made John a member of SHIELD, assigned Agent William Harvelle to show him the ropes. Good as Harvelle was, John was taking him to school within months.

Five years later, after Bobby died quietly in his bed three weeks before his 96th birthday, John became commander of SHIELD, but he hid his identity behind his code name and became known as Colonel John Fury. Given the need for revenge burning his soul, it was a good fit.

*

Determined to stay with Sam instead of setting some sort of record for 'youngest to graduate from a university,' Dean was careful not to show enough smarts to skip grades. By human standards, Gabriel estimated Dean was warming up to be the greatest mind of the next millennium, but Samuel thought he was an embarrassment. The giant douche hadn't seen the circuit board Dean built at the ripe old age of four – had been a present he'd given his mom the morning after she gave birth to Sam. Deanna was the one he'd showed the engine he'd put together when he was six. All Samuel paid attention to was the fact his grandson was the same age as all the other kids in his classes.

Deanna opted not to tell her husband he was an idiot and instead let Dean have what he wanted most – to stay with his little brother. Although the moment Sam skipped enough grades to catch up with him, the child prodigy stepped up to the plate. Jaws started dropping and even Samuel seemed impressed as awards for Dean, not him, began to appear in the family trophy room.

Before cancer claimed her during the boys' sophomore year, Deana enjoyed watching Sam gather honors as well, but his focus was more on the biological sciences, so the brothers were seldom in active completion. When they were, Dean did something to make certain Sam, not him, won, right up until the time Sam figured it out and pitched an epic bitchfit. Dean gave in enough that he collected the trophies, but he matched Sam in the progression through the grades no matter how loudly Sam protested. Or how others whispered that Sam was doing all the work while Dean took all the credit.

Ridiculous, right? Problem was Dean wasn't well liked and didn't really have any friends. It wasn't an accident. Sam was a shy, angry kid prone to outbursts of temper. If Gabriel didn't miss his guess, Dean was probably even more shy than his brother, but, instead of hiding from the world, he … strutted. Soaked up the spotlight like an addict with a fix. When scientific success failed to keep Sam in his comfortable, private space, Dean made a spectacle of himself. Too much booze, sexual escapades to make a scandal rag squeal with glee, and shouts to the heavens to trumpet his genius above all others -- with Bobby and their grandmother gone no one else's opinions mattered about the lengths he went to protecting Sam. Especially since Samuel seemed to get a kick out of it. The old man had never had the model-looks or flamboyance to pull of the playboy life-style, but he seemed to enjoy living vicariously through Dean. 

No one stopped to think that if even a fourth of the excess was true, all that genius would have drowned in a haze of alcohol and STDs, but Dean was handsome and brilliant. Many people wanted to believe the worst of him. Made it real easy to make everything about him while the world left Sam alone.

It was the perfect plan right up until the moment Sam started to believe it. Skipping grade levels left and right, raised on whispers about Dean's childhood silence (otherwise known as 'the breakdown'), and aware beneath it all that Dean was sacrificing far too much for him, Sam … rebelled.

Whenever Sam spent more than five minutes in the same room with Samuel it disintegrated into shouting matches. All too aware Samuel could cut them off and deprive Sammy of the education he deserved, Dean always stepped in, always calmed Samuel down. Sam viewed it as Dean taking Samuel's side. Made it seem like it was Sam against the two of them. It had the strange side effect of making Samuel see it that way, and he began to warm to Dean after years of studied indifference.

Not even that could save Sam when he started joining groups fond of protesting against Campbell Industries. Made a point to denounce their grandfather as a war profiteer who should be jailed for crimes against humanity. Samuel cut him off the summer before Sam and Dean were scheduled to enter MIT. In what Gabriel considered an act of pure karmic justice, the old man died in a car crash two weeks after changing his will. He'd left everything to Dean, who made certain Sam never wanted for anything.

Dean ended up graduating MIT at the ripe old age of 21. He had a single master's diploma to hang on the wall, but he was already recognized as one of the foremost experts in engineering, robotics and computer technology. On the same day, Sam received his doctorate in biophysics. Furious with the world and his brother a convenient target to focus, Sam left for Culver University without saying goodbye.

He'd been offered a position in the biophysics department, and the university was willing to give him time to attend their medical school to augment his skills. He thought the two disciplines would help him recreate the super-soldier serum and give the world a new Captain America.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and wished humans would stop trying to mess with the biological soup, then turned his attention to keeping an eye on Dean while the kid drank himself into a stupor. And if they both shed a tear or two, Gabriel wasn't going to tell anyone lacking the all-seeing ability to already know.

The first thing Dean did after the hangover eased enough to let him think was to get BOBBY online. He'd been tinkering with artificial intelligence matrices for years, but he'd had a breakthrough the night before graduation. He tripled checked things, then activated the system. He drew in a few deep breaths during the silence that followed, then he asked, "BOBBY, you there?"

"Course, I am, ya idjit. What ya need?"

Dean smiled and didn't feel quite so alone anymore. "Tell me a story."

The next day Dean surrendered to destiny and became CEO of Campbell Industries.

**_The Incredible Hulk, _Act 1__ **

Once Dean and Sam stopped occupying the same half of the continent, Gabriel paid far less attention to Sam. He'd had his fill of brooding younger sons resentful of their older brothers by the time he'd fled Heaven. So while Sam irritated him – yeah, yeah, lots of displaced anger over Lucifer in the mix but even a god could be petty like that – Dean fascinated and worried him. And then there was the identifying with him thing.

Gabriel had made a few … unwise choices to protect his little brother, too. Or at least in his quest to atone for them. But he'd pushed too far and Odin had warned him against further interference with the line of Deanna Oliver, but he could still watch.

Without Sam to look after, Dean seemed to lose a part of himself. What had once became a game of misdirection turned into a lifestyle, and drinks carefully nursed to give the illusion of excess gave way to true binges. Hangovers became a familiar condition, although the moaned oaths not to over-indulge again never passed Dean's lips. Made Gabriel think the human saw his self-inflicted pain as a way to make up for what he saw as failing Sam. Yes, Gabriel could definitely identify with the feeling.

One thing did change. In charge of his own destiny, Dean admitted to himself, then the media that he was gay. Although now male instead of female, the constant stream of gorgeous bodies in his bed did not stop and even the most generous of opinions labeled Dean self-destructive. But he was brilliant, his genius far surpassing his grandfather's as he created one deadly masterpiece after another.

When questioned about the morality of his inventions, Dean always answered that his father had been a solider and better, smarter weapons meant fewer fallen soldiers. It sounded right and on some levels Gabriel thought Dean believed it, but the drinking and letting others use his body like some sort of sex doll had to involve more self-hatred than what Sam had inspired.

More than once he wanted to appear to Dean, to talk to him about Lucifer and Castiel. To tell him maybe they should both cut themselves a little slack. And hey, they might even deserve it. But the days when Loki could let a mortal see his true form, hear his true voice had ended long ago.

So he did the only thing he could, he kept the kid company. Unseen, unheard, but hopefully somehow Dean knew he wasn't as alone as he thought. And because he knew Dean would want him to, he looked in on Sam from time to time.

He didn't like what he saw. Well, some of it. Okay, a lot of it was pretty good. Away from the drama of the Campbells, Sam seemed to flourish. Even fell in love with a lovely young woman. Dr. Jessica Moore. Not quite in Dean or Sam's league, but brilliant in her own right, she began as Sam's co-worker, then became so much more. She was good for him. Taught him to lighten up, to laugh at himself and the world. Woman after Gabriel's own heart. Yes, he approved.

It was the work they were doing that he disliked. And her relatives. Especially her father. General Moore. Humans called him Tunderbolt Moore and Gabriel was insulted on Castiel's behalf at the indirect insult. Moore had his strong points, he supposed, but he was obsessed with creating legions of super-soldiers. Damned, fantasy refused to die. Worse, while Jessica and Sam alone might have moved on to less volatile projects, the general kept the grant money and their focus on his own.

Time and time again, Gabriel pushed probability against them. System crashes, equipment failures became frequent occurrences, but damned them all they kept going. He tried his own brand of computer virus and the Red Skull's file popped up constantly. Sam and Jessica memorized it, but instead of seeing it as a roadblock, they viewed it as problem to be overcome. And somewhere along the line, Sam became certain gamma radiation was the answer.

No, no, no, no way. Not on his watch. The very idea agitated him enough, he shimmered, attracting attention. The mortals dismissed it as a trick of the eye; Odin had Heimdall yank his ass home. The Allfather gave him the tough-love speech about duty and what a god could or could not do. Threw in some guilt about how much Loki – they always called him that – was worrying his mother and brother, and followed up with a command to cease and desist or face Odin's wrath.

Counting himself lucky he hadn't been barred from returning to Earth, Gabriel scurried back across the bifrost determined to keep his focus on Dean when Loki wasn't called on to answer the 'get what some asshole deserved' prayers. Worked for moths, but then one of his 'tricks' didn't work out quite the way he wanted and he decided to pop in on Dean to cheer himself up.

When he arrived Dean was drunk and writhing beneath the military liaison assigned to keep an eye on him. Eye on, not cock in, but Gabriel had to give Lieutenant Colonel Tully points for style if not good choices, and no, Gabriel didn't want to stick around to watch. He should have gone back to Asgard, but he wasn't in the mood to listen to the Warriors Three tease him about his unsuccessful attempt to transform a jerk into at least less of one. That left … Sam.

He shifted his existence and found himself in a lab in the middle of an experiment. For a moment he couldn't believe his eyes, but there sat Sam in some sort of contraption that was bombarding his body with something that smelled like gamma radiation (it was a god-thing.) And, of course, underneath it all was the muskier scent of something a lot like the garbage injected into Castiel decades ago. All while Jessica and the General looked on with pleased smiles on their faces.

Damn, these mortals. Would they never learn from the follies of others? Except, once it hadn't been a folly, since they knew it had worked in the past. And there the fault rested on his shoulders. Had he not interfered the one success that had spurred their quest on would not exist, and Sam would not be dying. Between the serum and the radiation, Gabriel guessed the kid might survive a few weeks. In the next instant he realized he'd indulged in some wishful thinking as the unmistakable signs of an overload building danced across his senses. Not even he could stop that sort of chain reaction, but 'all my fault' was screaming in his head and he … did something.

Hadn't tried to shape matter in such a form since he'd crafted Castiel's original vessel, and never had he attempted such a thing with a human, but as the lethal radiation surged from the machine, he twisted it and Sam's cells so it was absorbed without destroying the body it assaulted. The result was … dramatic. Big. Enraged. And very, very green.

*

Knowing he was in big trouble – 'snuck out of Heaven without God's permission' level trouble - Gabriel had to fight the instinct to, perhaps literally, run for his life. Instead he followed the green behemoth that had once been Sam and interfered the hell out of the rest of the day as he kept anyone from being hurt by the green-tank-of-rage.

Then as suddenly as the rampage had begun, it ended. Thing just stopped, looked tired or bored of smashing things and sat down. Within moments it had morphed back into Sam. So good news, kid wasn't a full-timer on the monster front, but no matter how much Gabriel tried poking at Sam's cells, he couldn't get them back to their pre-dumbass-experiment settings. Between the chemistry, the radiation and the magic, Sam was pretty much screwed. Permanently.

Odin allowed – made? – him stick with Sam as he worked his way back to his destroyed lab. Let them both take in all the wrecked machinery, the bullet holes and the blood. "Oh, God, Jess," Sam whispered, then turned on his heels and ran to the university's hospital.

Jess was there. Badly injured, unconscious but alive and expected to make it. General Moore was there, too, along with a detail to arrest Sam. Odin waited until after Sam surrendered peacefully to demand Gabriel's presence. He went quietly himself.

Fun fact. The term immortal was sort of a wishful thinking thing. Most who claimed it could more accurately be described as long-lived mortals who were almost impossible to kill. Tended to take another 'immortal' to do it or tools forged with that sort of energy. So, yes, Odin could kill him. Perhaps even should given how far he'd strayed outside of his mandate and the havoc it had caused.

Instead the Allfather did worse. He looked at Gabriel, his one good eye filled with utter disappointment. Almost as an afterthought, he grounded Gabriel and sent him to his room. Without supper.

Didn't stop Gabriel from using his powers to tap into Heimdall's all-seeing mojo to find out what had happened. Not a big surprise to discover Sam had turned into what Moore called the Hulk again and had escaped.

Took the kid three days to break down and call his brother. "Dean?"

"Sammy? Where are you? Are you all right?"

Sam bit his lip. "You know what happened."

"Yes." Dean's sigh echoed through the line. "You destroyed most of your research along with the lab. General Moore thought I'd know something." The pain in his voice was obvious. Hurt that he didn't, that Sam had shut him out of his life so completely Dean hadn't known what he was doing to himself. "I've got people working on it. We can fix this, Sammy. Together."

Gabriel found himself holding his breath, but then Sam shook his head. "No. I can't be … it's dangerous when I get angry."

"Sam, please. When Dr. Moore's better –"

"No!" Sam shouted and his skin flushed green. "Leave her out of this!"

"Okay, okay, I'll tell her no. Tell her not my area, not my problem." A harsh laugh rattled in his throat. "She'll believe it. I've got that sort of reputation. But I can still help."

"Just stay away, Dean. From both of us." He hung up before Dean could say another word. Gabriel didn't have the heart to shift his focus to Dean, to see what Sam's rejection had cost him. Instead he kept his attention on Sam, following as he made his way to South America.

Kid ended up in Rocinha Favela, Brazil. Settled there with a job in a bottling factory, and an obvious determination to finally deal with all the anger churning away inside him. Gabriel couldn't see that as anything but a good thing. Even in a Hulk-free world.

**SHIELD**

After a few weeks Gabriel grew bored with watching Sam's struggles with meditation and Dean going to excesses that made all his previous behavior pale in comparison. Instead he decided to see what their father was up to.

And the biggest, baddest super-spy of them all was … sitting at a conference table staring at a computer screen. Wow, that was exciting. About 5,000 sarcastic quips leaped into his mind – didn't call him Silvertongue because he didn't think fast – but the name on the file John was viewing made them all sputter out. _Campbell, Samuel._

Really wanted to take the omniscience somewhere else, but this was all his fault. In so many ways. If he'd let Castiel make his own decision about walking out of the deep freeze, Deanna would almost certainly have married him, not Samuel, so no Mary for John to fall in love with. No Mary, no boys, no … issues destroying them both. Or if he'd kept his promise to Castiel and been there when Hydra attacked the house, he could have saved the family. And then there was Sam. He'd really messed that one up big time. Should have gotten there soon enough to do the same interference he had with him as he had with Castiel. Except with zip results.

The door opened to admit a middle-aged woman who still rocked the standard SHIELD black jumpsuit look. John's second-in-command didn't say anything. Instead she simply stood there waiting, letting the weight of her gaze slowly pull his attention. It worked.

"Harvelle."

"Fury." Gabriel flinched at the code name. Yes, it fit, but his son turning into a rage monster sort of gave things a seriously ironic vibe that wasn't in the least bit funny. At least not to the god who'd had a big hand in creating the monster. He wondered which Sam would have preferred – death or the Hulk. And what would John have chosen?

John sighed and rubbed his good eye. He could easily have opted for plastic surgery and a fake eye, but he'd decided to stick with a patch. Like the false name, it fit. "We still have eyes on Sam?"

"Yes, he's in Brazil and not showing any sign of wanting to move on."

"Good. And Dean?"

She frowned. "Not doing well. He's all alone."

"I thought he'd hooked up with Tully."

"According to Henriksen, it wasn't much more than a one-night stand after both of them had too much to drink. It left Tully even more disapproving of Dean's lifestyle choices than ever. I think Dean's only real friend is his assistant."

"Madison Morrigan. File on her looks good."

"Agreed, but she's an employee. He can't be certain where he stands with her."

He looked at her. "Worked out for us."

Her manner softened. "It did, but, John, the boy needs his father."

"Not yet, Ellen," he said with a shake of his head. "Milton and Leclerq have a lead on Azazel. I can't risk compromising the boys until he's no longer a threat."

Gabriel knew that wasn't a choice Ellen had made after Azazel had killed her husband, although she'd been less than thrilled when Joanna Beth had entered SHIELD's training academy last fall instead of pursuing a nice safe career. "When we were fighting about her choice of careers, Jo said there was no such thing as safe."

"You buy that?"

"Hell, no," she answered with a snort. "But point is she believes it and if I'd kept fighting her, well, there's more than one way to lose someone." She cupped the side of his face with her hand. "Not saying you made a bad call back when you escaped, but every minute that ticks by makes it harder and harder for you to make a place in their lives."

She didn't say it might be too late for Sam. She didn't need to.

**_Iron Man I_ **

Sometimes having a front row seat sucked big time. Watching a human he'd become fond of mortally wounded and dragged off by warlords pretty much topped Gabriel's list. Odin's version of timeout had him trapped in Asgard, helpless to do anything while Dean's convoy was attacked by the Ten Rings. Couldn't save the military escort protecting him, couldn't stop the Campbell industries missile from blowing up a few feet away from him. All he could was watch Dean's blood flow out of his chest and mourn.

Wanted to look away, but he could do this one last duty for Deanna's grandson. Then it happened. As the terrorists dragged Dean back to some cave to die, one of them complained about the prize dying. Another answered, "He needs to get what was coming to him." Or close enough translation-wise. Also close enough for Loki to act.

He ran to the throne room, his pace only slightly slower than the speed of thought, then threw himself at Odin's feet. "Allfather, I've been called. Let me answer!"

Odin frowned. "Is not such a plea answered by the death of a bringer of death?"

"No! I mean, sure, but it lacks … artistry! So much more that can be done here! Give me leave, Allfather, and I swear this will be my greatest work." He looked at the king and queen of Asgard, fairly vibrating with his need to go. "Father, Mother, please."

After a very long moment, Odin nodded. His call of "Loki, do not overstep your bounds again," followed Gabriel all the way back to Earth. A fair warning, since he would have done anything to save Dean, but he didn't have to. The Ten Rings liked prisoners they thought valuable, and had taken a scientist captive after destroying his village. They'd not yet realized the grief-stricken man had hidden his own wounds and had allowed himself to die.

Appearing in the cell only moments before the guards arrived Gabriel cloaked the body, then took on the dead man's aspect. A common trick of his, one not entirely unlike the one he'd used to become Loki, although this, like most, would be a temporary arrangement.

Gabriel was neither a doctor nor a scientist, but he was a former archangel and a denizen of Asgard and mimicking the skill set of a human was within his purview. That meant leaving some of the shrapnel in Dean's chest instead of drawing it all out, but if he tried to do too much he'd get a fast trip back to Asgard and Dean would die. Fortunately, his 'host' had known a trick to keep the remaining metal from reaching the heart, so Gabriel hooked an electromagnet powered by a car battery into Dean's chest. All he could do was hope Dean's genius would allow the boy to find a way to save himself.

*

The hard part began once Dean had recovered enough to work. The Ten Rings wanted him to build a Jericho Missile System for them so they could rule the area. A brave man, Dean refused and they tortured him. Not an easy thing to see and remain passive, but this was about teaching Dean a lesson and the Trickster would not act for anyone else, so he could not interfere now.

Instead he waited until Dean had agreed simply to stop the pain, waited until despair over the threat of certain death weighed down Dean's shoulders. Then and only then did Silvertongue work his magic. A gentle push. Nothing more, but it inspired Dean to think of another option. Even Gabriel was impressed when they finished making the mini-arc reactor. The wonders of the human's mind did not stop there.

Dean had an escape plan wrapped up in a metal suit to make the knights of old weep with envy. But Gabriel's task was not done. While they worked, he spoke of the horrors his host had endured forcing Dean to see the human cost of his shiny toys. A fan of movies, he made certain everything came together just as their captors lost patience complete with a nice dramatic death to buy Dean time to escape. He even went for the classic last words of going to join his dead family and Dean not wasting his second chance at life.

The suit got Dean out of the cave and away from the Ten Rings. Luck with an assist from SHIELD helped the military find him. His mission accomplished Gabriel returned to Asgard and settled in to see what would happen next.

*

Dean didn't disappoint him. Wasn't back in the States for an hour before he announced Campbell Industries would no longer manufacture weapons. Wasn't as simple as that. There were contracts the company was required to honor, but the R&D for any and all new weapons stopped. Immediately.

He kept all his employees on staff, but sent those who were suddenly without purpose on extended vacations while he focused his genius on improving what he'd built in that cave in Afghanistan. He tried to bring Jake in on what he was doing, but the Colonel was pissed at him to say the least. Between that and the static Dean was getting from Zach Adler, he opted not to tell anyone what he was doing.

Madison knew about the arc reactor in his heart, of course. Got a crash course in that when she had to help him swap it out for a new and improved model. Dean decided to trust her and set her to the task of figuring out exactly what he could take with him if he walked away from the company.

"You're thinking of quitting?"

"Mads, I need out of the weapons business, and it'll be years before we finish making good on standing orders. Let Zach have that part it. I'll do something else."

She shook her head. "He won't go for it, Dean. You own most of the patents outright."

"He'll still make millions."

"Not as many."

"But he won't have to put up with me anymore," Dean pointed out. "Most would say that was a priceless deal."

She gave him a sad smile, kissed him on the temple then went to do what he'd asked.

*

Madison had been right, of course. But so had Dean. Zach had been tired of putting up with Dean, of not having full control. Turned out Adler had hired the Ten Rings to kill him. Tried to finish the job himself by yanking the arc reactor out of Dean's chest. When that didn't work, he used it to power a suit he'd had built from the remains of what Dean had done in the cave.

In the end, Zach ended up dead and the world had enough footage of what the press dubbed Iron Man to put to rest any hope Dean might have had of keeping the suit secret. But what next?

Gabriel had liked Agent Victor Henriksen since John had assigned him to keep a casual eye on Dean years ago. The man had helped Madison survive when Zach went after her, and he carefully put together a cover story to prevent anyone from assuming a suit using modified Campbell Industries tech had contained Dean. Except -- "Body guard? You want me to pretend I'm my own body guard?" Dean asked.

Victor gave him his patented bland look. "It explains the connection."

"Yes, but it leaves me wide open for a lawsuit from anyone who so much as gets the hiccups when I fly by. I might as well admit it's me in the suit if I'm going to have to hire that many lawyers."

Both Victor and Madison looked alarm, and Gabriel felt a twinge himself. Dean had pretended to have the sort of narcissistic personality that would thrive on publicly playing super-hero for so long it wasn't certain whether or not he'd started to believe that was who he was. But he shook his head. "No. Might be fun, but no." He thought for a second, then said, "You stole it."

Victor's eyebrows rose. "I what?"

"Stole my tech and turned it into Iron Man," Dean said, pouring himself a scotch. "Well, not you personally, but some shadowy government agency intent on using it to protect truth, justice and the American way. No, wait, that slogan's taken. You'll need to come up with a different one. Want a drink?"

Victor sighed. "Why the hell not?"

*

Dean did hold a press conference the next day. He gave the press his SHIELD-created alibi, plus the cover story of Zach being on vacation -- leaving out the part about Adler's pending fiery death in a tragic plane crash. John had it scheduled for the following Friday. But Dean didn't stop there.

Instead he said, "When I was four my brother and I lost our parents. I've spent every day since then pretending to respect a man who said he wouldn't shelter us if we didn't take his name. I'm done with that and his vision of what made a better world.

"Effective immediately, I am severing all ties with Campbell Industries." He had to pause for almost a minute before everyone quieted back down. "My name is Dean Winchester, CEO of Winchester International, a company dedicated to bettering the lives of everyone, not destroying them."

*

The press conference and the fallout took hours, and even though he'd left his Malibu home shortly after dawn, it was three the next morning before his driver dropped him off at the house. "Night, Boss," Garth said as Dean all but stumbled out of the car.

Dean muttered his own good nights and walked inside to a reunion Gabriel knew should be private, but had no intention of missing. "Evenin', boy," BOBBY greeted him. "You done makin' a spectacle of yourself?"

A soft smile curved Dean's lips. "Yeah, think I can call it a night."

"'fraid not. You've got a visitor waiting for you in the living room."

"What? BOBBY? You're not supposed to let –"

"Think you need to hear him out. And if you don't like it maybe you should have put a little less 'I' in this 'AI.' Idjit."

His muscles coiled, obviously ready to bolt despite BOBBY's reassurances, Dean walked into the living room to see a man with his back to him staring out at the ocean like he wasn't some sort of AI-hijacking, house-crashing whatever. "You've had a busy night, Winchester," his 'guest' said in a gruff voice that caught on Dean's name.

And oh, God. A genius with a memory that came as close to photographic as it got, Dean never forgot much, especially something he'd fought so hard to hold onto. Like the sound of – "Dad?"

The man turned. An eyepatch on one eye, a few lines around the other, and some gray in a beard he hadn't had, but every inch John Winchester. "Dean."

Never more than a heartbeat away from the four-year-old boy waiting desperately for his father to run out of the flames, he practically flew across the room and into John's arms. Later they would talk about what had happened that night so many years ago, about Mary's death and John's decision to stay away while he tried to find her killer but Dean was Iron Man now so he couldn't stay away any longer. Dean would get angry and yell about how much he'd needed John, and there would be more than a few tears shed by both of them. But for now, a lost little boy clung to his father. A boy who had remade himself into one of the world's greatest superheroes.

Tears stung Gabriel's eyes and he smiled. Best Trick ever. Just like he'd promised.

**_Iron Man 2_ **

With Adler dead by plane crash, the board of Campbell Industries named one of Dean's cousins the new CEO. Dean had never cared much for Christian Campbell, but he had to admit that if nothing else, had Hydra not forced Samuel to make Dean and Sammy his heirs, Christian would have gotten everything. Douche knew it, too, so the dislike was mutual. Especially since his line of the family tree had pretty much skipped the whole genius thing. Sure Christian was smart, but not even remotely in the same league as Samuel's prodigy. Also was careless and too quick to cut corners, but he was the best the arms industry had to offer, so Gabriel wished them all sort of luck and dismissed Christian and his new/old company goodbye.

Dean did much the same. Instead he focused on Winchester International. Any employee who had a vision beyond things that blew up or had already been working in the non-lethal divisions of Campbell was invited to make the jump to Winchester. Most did, and anyone who called them fools had to eat their words four months later when the first robotic prosthetics premiered. Dean had provided the base design from some of the 'stolen' technology used to create Iron Man, and his teams had quickly developed something that worked as well as the real thing, but no better. Dean had been adamant about that. 'No Bionic Man' stuff had been the directive from day one and every single limb had an auto shutdown feature that was triggered by any attempt by unauthorized personnel to even examine the technology. Another team was hard at work on creating an exo-frame that would move paralyzed limbs – and yes, it was all Dean's way to atone for some of the human damage he'd caused.

Beyond this developing clean energy became the main mission of his new company. If someone had an idea to get something that worked on fossil fuel to use something else, Dean wanted a look at it. If he liked what he saw, he funded it. Personally, he focused on the arc reactor. He felt in his bones it was the key to replacing power plants running on fossil fuels or nuclear energy. By the end of the first year he'd also destroyed every single weapon Adler had sold under the table to anyone willing to pay for it. In some cases he didn't even have to go after it personally as most of the buyers figured out Iron Man always destroyed more than the Campbell weapons so they started destroying the stuff themselves to save other assets.

And while Dean stuck to his vow not to design weapons of war, he did do a lot of work for SHIELD. Officially he was a consultant, with only Harvelle and Henrikson knowing he was the boss' son which went with them being pretty much the only ones who knew Fury was John Winchester. Iron Man was also a frequent presence in the halls of various SHIELD facilities, but general knowledge had it that there was not only a SHIELD agent inside the armor, but that several unknown agents rotated the duty.

On Father's Day Dean gave John the plans for a helicarrier, then took him out to dinner. Turned out John _did_ have a prosthetic eye under the patch. Sort of his own nod to a secret identity since when he wore the patch that's what most people saw. Taking it off let him go out and enjoy a day here and there with his son. Dean thrived at the attention despite how careful they had to be about when and where they were seen together. John was still worried about Azazel since Dean didn't actually live in the armor. Besides, neither of them wanted the paparazzi snapping their photo and getting them labeled lovers by the press.

It was one of the reasons Ellen joined them on occasion. Not to mention John wanted Dean to like her. And he did. She reminded him a lot of what he remembered about his mom and what he'd always imagined his grandmother had been like before she'd lost Captain America. Mary's absence was, of course, a bittersweet part of all of it, but an even sharper pain was none of it could be shared with Sam. At least not until 'rage' stopped being his middle name.

"He doesn't even know what you looked like, Dad." Everything the Winchesters had owned had been destroyed in the fire and Samuel had never allowed pictures of John in the various Campbell homes. So no visuals, no memories. "If …" Dean swallowed like the word made his throat raw, "he comes back, maybe it would be better for him to get to know Fury." 

John sighed. "Might make things stay less … green."

So yeah, Sam not being part of their lives was a bummer – for Gabriel, too – but in other ways Dean thrived. He'd stopped drinking to excess, the parade of men through his bedroom had stopped as well with most of the gossip rags scrambling to invent a mysterious lover who had finally made Dean want to settle down. Gabriel snickered more than once at what their faces might look like if they found out it was the kid's dad who'd made the difference.

For a few months everything was something out of a fairy tale. Or at least an angst-free comic book. Dean seemed happy and Iron Man's activities had stabilized the Middle East for almost six months. Which was pretty much an historical record. Then, as it always did, shit happened.

First Christian Campbell announced he was hosting a new Campbell Expo to showcase a 'brighter tomorrow.' Dean had rolled his eyes, wished him luck and wondered how the fuck the jerk hadn't bankrupted the company already although reviving that ode to Samuel's ego was a damned good start down that road. Thing became a thorn in Dean's side almost immediately as Christian offered a presentation slot to Winchester Industries.

"No."

Madison glared at him. "Dean, the publicity-"

"The whole thing's going to blow up in his face, Mads. I don't want a piece of it."

She scowled. A Madison special that always made him squirm. Never should have hired an assistant who could intimidate him. On the other hand, she was really the only sort of assistant worth having. "Not only would participating be good publicity; not being there would make it look like we don't have anything to offer."

They glared at each other for a good two minutes, then Dean caved. He always did when she was right. "Fine."

"Fine."

"Just don't expect me to show up."

"Wouldn't dream of it," she answered in a tone that said loud and clear that he'd show up when she told him to.

Dean muttered something about her not being the boss of him. She made a hmmm sound, and he staged a strategic retreat back to whatever he was working on. Looked like some sort of refinements to the arc reactor. Didn't surprise Gabriel. Dean was the type to constantly tinker and he'd heard the kid say more than once that the gadget held the key to clean energy.

As both the god and the man knew he would, Dean went along like a good boy when Madison insisted he go to the Expo opening. Her also asking Agent Henriksen to come _was_ a surprise, especially since it became obvious throughout the evening that he was her date, not there in some sort of SHIELD capacity.

Dean watched them instead of Christian strutting around on the stage. By the time the show was over he'd decided he was okay with them being a couple – although when she'd found the time to date he didn't know – but he did manage to draw Henriksen aside long enough to give him the 'yes, I know you know a thousand ways to kill me with a paperclip, but if you hurt her, I will end you' speech.

Henriksen gave him the usual bland look, but nodded slightly. Good enough. Dean decided to make an exit before he found out if the agent had one of those paperclips with him, and let Garth lead the way to the car.

A lovely lady was reclining against it. "Somebody not get the gay-memo thing?" he asked, and she smiled, then held out a piece of paper. Congressional subpoena.

When he appeared as ordered, Dean did a trickster god proud. A lifetime of smiling through the pain and putting up fronts enabled him to lie like the pro he was. No, he didn't know who had stolen his inventions or who had cobbled them together to create Iron Man, but perhaps the senator could trot over to the Pentagon and find out because Dean's lawyers would really appreciate it.

No, he had no intention of creating an Iron Man of his own because, in case another one of his memos had been missed, Dean Winchester was not in the weapons business. Perhaps they could talk to his cousin and good luck with that. And by the way, he'd love a heads up on any testing dates so he could arrange to be on the other side of the world when it happened.

They called in Colonel Tully to testify about the threat of having such a weapon in unknown hands, but if they'd hoped to guilt Dean into doing his 'patriotic duty' it failed miserably. Jake hadn't been wise enough to see through Dean's masks to realize the treasure that had tumbled into his bed, and while, if push came to shove, Dean would put the man on a short list of friends, their relationship was something more than civil, something less than warm. Good bet it was nothing short of Colonel Fury himself having ordered him to keep his mouth shut that prevented Jake from selling out Dean live on CSPAN.

Finally the gasbag of a senator had said, "Mr. Winchester, we have the authority to-"

"What? Force me to work for you? Last time some assclowns tried that, it didn't work out too well for them." He stood up and slipped on his sunglasses. "I suggest you not try for a repeat performance," he added, turned on his heel and stalked out of the Senate chamber.

*

Dean spent a few more weeks of uninterrupted tinkering, then he simply sat down at his work station and stared at nothing for a few hours. Three days later he interrupted Madison's tirade about him giving away his art collection – one she'd actually done the work acquiring – to the Nature Conservatory (would have gone to the Boy Scouts but Dean didn't like their attitude about gays) to make her CEO of Winchester International. He wanted to hand over the chairmanship, too, but knew that was too much too fast. Instead he had his lawyers put the added title into his will.

Covering that sort of base made sense for someone who moonlighted taking on terrorist cells single-handed, but that particular stroke of Dean's pen told Gabriel the kid was dying. If it hadn't, Dean's deciding to take over at the last second for his driver in the Circuit de Monaco would have. Kid had enough going on to satisfy any adrenaline junkie. Made driving that car look a lot like flashy suicide. Except, Dean had mad skills as a driver so he stayed alive and in a respectable position before the ambush.

Some tattooed-nightmare with an arc reactor on his chest – although not in it – powering an energy-whip set up powerful enough to cut cars in half. Killed the driver of the first car he attacked; Dean survived, but got knocked around pretty hard. Garth saved him by slamming the company rental into the man, all but killing him. Gave Dean the chance to run up, snatch off the reactor thing and smash it.

Madison yelled at him for an hour, all while cuddling him like a little boy who had run into the street and almost gotten himself killed. When he finally got her calmed down, he slipped off to talk to his would-be murderer. Found out good old Samuel and Zach had had a partner back in the day, one they'd had deported to the Soviet Union when they didn't like his attitude. The slimeball was his son, also a physicist, who knew enough about the old research to come up with his own miniature arc reactor. Even higher on the 'sucks rocks' scale, sonny boy had decided, since Samuel and Zach were dead, the best way to get revenge for his father's disgrace/death was to go after Dean.

"Seriously?" Dean muttered with a glare, then shook his head and walked out.

*

Dean hadn't wanted to go back to Malibu, but he really didn't have anywhere else to go or someone special to go with. So he ended up at home with nothing better to do than research his attacker. Jake showed up in the middle of it which came in handy when Dean realized he'd waited too long and his reactor was failing.

Not good. There wasn't any shrapnel in Dean's chest these days. He'd simply cranked up the arc reactor high enough to draw it out instead of merely keep it in place as the weaker force of the electromagnet-car battery had done. But he'd had the thing embedded in his chest for almost four months before he'd managed the extraction, and by then his damned heart had gotten dependent on it. Five minutes without it, tops, and his heart stopped.

Jake practically had to carry him over to his work station, then helped him eject then replace the smoking core that powered the reactor. Even noticed the pattern on his neck caused by the blood poisoning. Didn't stop Jake from laying into Dean about his erratic behavior. "Damnit, Dean, you either shape up or SHIELD or no SHIELD I'm going to make certain the armor gets into more responsible hands."

Dean believed him. So the moment Jake left, he got to work on a special set of armor. He always had more than one suit operational. An older one he'd repaired, one he currently used and one in development. In this case, he had BOBBY assemble a new Mark 2 suit (Dean was currently wearing Mark 5) but had him leave out the gold hue and the red paint job. When it was finished, he made some special modifications, then put it in a display case he also tinkered with. All while Gabriel wondered if it was the last project he'd ever work on.

*

The day Dean had signed over his company to Madison he'd recruited a new assistant. One Ann Miles who Mads said came from legal. Right. Lady had put Garth on his back five seconds after stepping into the practice ring with him and while the dude might not look imposing, he was a black belt. That and the oh, so impressive resume had screamed SHIELD plant to Dean, but he'd figured if his dad wanted someone looking after him, he could put up with it. And she was damned good at the assistant thing. Even if she looked at him like she wanted to kill him on the spot every time he called her 'Annie.'

Anyway, Dean knew she was probably an agent so he tried to be careful what he said and did around her, but his blood toxicity gauge had read 87 percent that morning and well, Gabriel figured the kid was just tired of pretending he didn't have more than a week or two left to live. 

"Maybe I should cancel my birthday party," he said while she was fussing with his box of expensive watches.

"Probably."

"Yeah, ill-timed and all that crap."

"True," She came over and dabbed concealer on his injuries. 

"If this were your last birthday … party, what would you do?"

"Whatever I wanted. With whomever I wanted."

He cancelled the stupid party and called his father. They ordered Tai take-out and he got John to tell him stories about when he and Mary were dating.

The next day, he went to a club and got blind drunk. Gabriel didn't think he'd really intended to go that far, but it had been almost a year since Dean had done more than nurse a single scotch during an evening, so it hit him harder. In any case, he made a spectacle of himself worthy of the old days. Really wasn't even certain which way was up when Garth dropped him back home and he stumbled down to his lab.

Easier to go down stairs than up? Or maybe he just preferred to crash on the cot down there where Dummy as well as BOBBY could watch over him. In any case, he arrived in time to find Jake slipping the helmet of the silver armor into place. "This what you really want, Jake?" he asked, his voice thick and slurred with over-indulgence. "Be the military's pet war machine?"

"Somebody's got to do what needs to be done," he answered, his voice modulated, but with a different sound than Iron Man's. Dean was Iron Man. No one else could or would be. Right down to his voice. "You going to try and stop me?"

Dean laughed. A short, bitter sound. "Can't. Suit won't work if my blood alcohol is higher than .08."

Jake's head cocked like he was surprised to hear Dean would have taken such a precaution. Dean found it insulting. "Just get the fuck out of my house before I call Fury."

The newly-dubbed War Machine flew off out of the garage exit. Dean pulled a bottle of tequila out of the cabinet.

*

Dean wasn't entirely certain how he'd ended up sitting in the middle of the huge donut on the top of Randy's Donuts, especially since he'd managed the climb with a box of a dozen glazed, but it wasn't the craziest situation he'd found himself in once the alcohol haze cleared enough for reality to set in.

"Son, can you get down from there on your own?"

He glanced down at John, considered the logistics and the extent of his hangover, then answered, "Probably not."

John sighed and walked out of Dean's line of sight. He shrugged and went back to eating. A moment later, a ladder clanged against the side of the building. Probably the one Dean had used to get up here. "Let's go," John said when his head popped into view.

Dean eased over to his father, who kept close as they climbed down. Once his feet hit the ground, Dean decided there had been a tragic oversight in his hangover breakfast order. "Coffee?"

"Sounds like a plan," he answered, guiding Dean inside with a hand on the small of his back. The place was oddly empty given the early hour. Empty as in total lack of staff despite fresh coffee in the pots and display cases filled with sugary goodness going to waste.

He frowned at that as John settled him into a booth then got them both a large coffee. He set Dean's on the table along with two Advil. He watched Dean down them and a few swallows of coffee, thank God for coffee. Before either of them could say anything, Ann walked up in a sexy black SHEILD catsuit and told John the perimeter was secure.

"Oh, cool, Annie," Dean said, ignoring the uniform and hardware strapped to her thigh. "Make sure we pay for all the stuff in the display cases. Can give it away to all your little SHIELD buddies."

John looked amused. She just raised an eyebrow and said, "Don't call me Annie."

"Hmmm, what should I call you?"

"This is Agent Anna Milton," John said.

Dean considered this, but shook his head. "Nah, Annie still works for me."

She fixed him with a glare that probably would have made him wet his pants if he weren't caught in the hell between drunk and hungover with his head promising far worse. Instead he gave her a sickly grin and drank more coffee.

John's hand settled on his forearm. "You ready to let us help you?"

"Nothing you can do," he muttered.

"You might be surprised."

Anna held out a syringe. "Lithium dioxide, won't cure you, but it'll ease your symptoms."

"It'll give you time to fix this yourself," John said, giving her a nod.

She injected the stuff into his neck and he felt instantly better, but, "I have palladium poisoning. Only way to fix it is to find something to replace it." Not even a heart transplant would help since it was a good bet pretty much his entire body had gotten dependent on the energy of the damned reactor. "Except I've tried every element, every damned combination of elements out there and none of them work." He sighed. "I'm going to die, Dad."

"No, you're not. And no, you haven't." John stood up. "Come on, let's get you home. There's something I need to show you."

*

While John and Anna escorted Dean home, Gabriel took a quick look in on Jake and the stolen suit. Was a fairly entertaining sight. Apparently, Dean had modified the armor so any attempt to probe the reactor and repulsors resulted in a self-destruct countdown that ceased the minute the tampering stopped. No one would be using the suit as a template to make more of them.

Finally one of the thwarted scientists said, "It looks like we can add some things, but anything else will destroy it."

Jake glared at the metal. "Fine, call Christian Campbell. We need to weaponize this thing."

*

"I like to think of it as you got your mother's brains, not Samuel's," John said, sipping on another cup of coffee, this one from Dean's precious coffee maker. "She always thought the arc reactor her father made was nothing more than a stepping stone to something else." He smiled slightly. "She used to play around with the idea before we'd go to bed. Wrote everything down in journals."

Two agents carried in a large silver case. "When she'd finish one, she'd send it off to General Singer for safe keeping." He nodded toward the case. "None of our people can make sense of it, but I know you can." He stood up, pressed a kiss to Dean's forehead. "Figure it out, son. Let your mother help save you."

He nodded toward the doorway and Dean turned to see Anna and Henriksen standing in the doorway. "Anna will remain a floater at Winchester. Victor is going to keep an eye on you here."

"Awesome," he muttered.

John grinned, then swept out the door with the rest of his SHIELD minions.

"Hey, man," Dean said with what he hoped was a charming smile. "No hard feelings about the 'end you' crack, right?"

Henriksen stared at him for a few more moments, then gave him a faint smile. "I'd have said the same if our situations were reversed. She is a remarkable woman."

"Yeah, she is. Glad she's found someone who sees that." His smile faded. "You'll be there for her, right? If none of this works, and she has to keep things going. You'll have her back?"

He nodded. "But how about you get to work and see that it doesn't come to that?"

*

Dean discovered the box held treasure beyond his imagination. Video tapes of her life with John, then Dean and even a few after Sammy was born. He played them all – and had BOBBY digitize and store them – as he read through her journals.

Seemed Mary Campbell Winchester had foreseen the limits of the palladium core, although Dean doubted she'd ever given the slightest thought to any part of the reactor ending up inside a human body, let alone her eldest son's. She wrote about several ideas, not all of them related to the arc reactor, and he made a mental note to revisit some of them, but mostly she talked about elements not found on Earth. She reasoned there had to be more than what could just be found here out there and thought that maybe they could be created since the building blocks should be available.

Unfortunately, the final journal ended before she'd narrowed down any formulas. He had no doubts she'd figured it out. Had said almost as much to his father, but any writing about it must have been lost in the fire. So much for that. Trying to deny he'd allowed himself any hope, he distracted himself with the videos and other things she'd stored away.

One of them was a map of the original Campbell Expo, but there were marks on it done in various colors of crayon. Dean's work, but as he stared at it he began to remember. "Wouldn't that building look better there, sweetheart?"

He'd drawn arrows, created little buildings where nothing had been, all while she'd smiled and made suggestions. No, not smiled. Well, yes, she'd smiled, but she'd had a sort of look, one he'd seen before in pictures Madison had taken of him. It was one of inspiration and creation.

"BOBBY, scan this," he said laying it out on the drawing table. "Make it into a 3D image."

*

Dean dubbed the new element marwinium, although he would always think of it as Mary, letting him keep his mother in his heart. Making it part of the core not only instantly banished all signs of the palladium poisoning it also ramped up the potential power. Good thing since he'd had to bypass the tests after he got a call from a dead man.

Minutes later Iron Man hit the supersonic boosters to get him from California to New York before all hell broke loose. Damn Christian and his big rollout of what Dean just knew would be variations of Dean's own technology. Didn't take a genius to know that if the Russian was still alive and free, Dean's fucking cousin was the one who had broken him out.

He landed in the middle of a flashy showcase featuring a stage full of droids surrounding Jake in a modified suit. Yeah, he'd called it right with the War Machine name. Had always been too much to hope for that the military wouldn't tinker with the armor, but, in his opinion all the weaponry littering Jake's suit was overkill.

A few quick words about 'we've got trouble' later and Jake lost command control of his armor. Not a problem. "BOBBY, shut him down," Dean ordered.

"My pleasure, boy." The AI hadn't even finished speaking before all the lights on Jake's suit went dead.

"What the fuck?" he heard Jake curse over the suit-to-suit link BOBBY had left open.

"You didn't really think I wouldn't build in a failsafe?" Dean asked, more than a little insulted. He might have decided someone had to have a version of his armor, and Jake was the best candidate he had, but they weren't close enough for that sort of unlimited use of Dean's tech. Didn't mean he didn't feel a twinge of guilt when he had to leave Jake helpless on the floor when the damned droids all attacked. But he had to lead the fucking things away from the Expo crowds.

Lot of them, too. Kept him busy for the better part of an hour, then Anna's voice sounded over his comlink. "I've rebooted the software controlling War Machine. It's safe to let your friend back into the fight."

"Thanks, Annie, remind me to give you a raise."

"Count on it. And don't call me Annie."

*

Battle over, bad guy dead, and Dean with a decent chance of dying of old age, it seemed like Miller Timer or at least a classier version, but he'd barely whisked Madison away from the droids self-destructing before she started in on how they needed to fix things. Meaning the damned Expo.

"What? Why? I'm not a freaking Campbell anymore. Why should we care if half of Christian's stupid egoboo got blown up?"

"Because it was more than just that! It was a way to showcase hope for the future!"

Shit, when she put it like that. … "Fine, but we're changing the damned name."

The Planet Green Expo reopened six weeks later.

**_The Incredible Hulk,_ Act II**

Sam said his goodbyes to Jess over the phone. He'd have preferred to see her, to hold her again before disappearing somewhere her father couldn't find him, but he'd traveled too far before he'd 'lost' the Other Guy. Getting back to her would have given anyone setting another trap far too much set-up time.

So he called her from a payphone three states away, carefully trying not to look at the newspaper box full of headlines about his battle with what was now being called Abomination. After a couple of years of meditation and anger management techniques, Sam remained enough a part of the Other Guy to get memory flashes of events, so he couldn't quite argue it didn't fit the latest sap to fall into the super-soldier serum trap, but he hated the loss of humanity it represented. But, God, between the two of them, they'd practically destroyed Harlem.

Sam knew Dean would soon swoop in and help with the rebuilding. Thought made him sick. But he'd grown as a person enough to know he'd spent too much of his life blaming his brother for both Sam's own failings and things that were out of both their control. No, what made him sick was that it needed to be done in the first place and that was all on him. He'd trusted the wrong person to help him find a cure. 'Mr. Blue' had turned out to be even more reckless than General Moore. Almost as reckless as Sam himself.

So he was done with the desperate hunt for the cure. He said as much when Jess answered the phone. "I … don't think there's one to find anymore," he admitted. "At least not one I can survive."

"I think you're right," she said and he hadn't realized how much he was hoping she would disagree with him until she didn't. Felt like being stabbed in the gut, but the worst wasn't over. "Sam. …"

He heard the catch in her voice, knew her eyes must be bright with tears if they hadn't already started to fall and his own vision blurred. "So this is goodbye." For good.

"I love you," she said, strangely a confirmation instead of a denial. "But, I'm not … all the anger in you, maybe if you'd let me see it, help you. …" She sighed. "Did I ever really know you?"

In a way, maybe. She'd been part of a life he'd wanted so badly it had consumed him enough to believe he could have it, but he'd never dealt with who he was. Made him more an actor in a play, than a real man in a real life. Maybe if he had found a way to make it real, he wouldn't be sharing the rest of his life with a rage monster. "No, I guess not."

"Take care of yourself. _Find_ yourself."

"I'll try."

"Bye, Sam."

"Bye, Jess." He hung up the phone.

Two days later he put a gun in his mouth and pulled the trigger. The Other Guy spit the bullet out. Denied even the escape of death, he picked a random direction and started walking

*

John walked into a bar and figured there had to be a joke in there somewhere. It took him a moment to adjust his eyesight to the dimness, not that he needed to see to find General Moore. His youngest son's 'nemesis' was up front and center downing shots at a rate to put Dean's wildest excesses to shame.

"Colonel Fury," Moore muttered, then turned away from the brightly lit doorway and back to his latest shot.

"General Moore," he acknowledged the higher rank, but it really didn't mean much in the grand scheme of things. SHIELD had world-wide versus country-specific clout, which put John higher up in the 'food chain' of things. "You done with the super-soldier project?" he asked, opting for a question versus leading with an order to cease and desist.

Moore snorted. "Soon as I clean up the mess it made."

Which meant once he sobered up Moore intended to go right back to hunting down Sam. "SHIELD will handle the Hulk."

That got Moore's full attention and he stared at John with bleary eyes. "Why the sudden interest in Campbell?"

Nothing sudden about it, but during the most recent battle Sam had shown some signs of being able to control his alter ego which let John take things from a personal to a professional level. And as a professional, he had considerable authority. "We might have need of him."

John wanted his youngest son back. He wanted to give Dean back his brother. And the idea of a super-powered response team might accomplish both. But more than anything John wanted the need for it to never, ever arise. But he knew it would.

**_Thor,_ Act II**

Given he hadn't left Asgard for the better part of a year, Gabriel was more than a little surprised when he was summoned to the throne room with all the pomp and circumstance that screamed trouble with a capital 'T.' His threat alert stayed at DEFCON five when he arrived to find Odin, Frigga and Baldur all waiting for him in their full royal regalia. The sort of fashionware worn by those about to pronounce sentence on unworthy heads. Not good. Seriously, not good.

He considered running – been sort of his go-to plan whenever faced with family drama – but … they looked sad, not angry and smiting usually involved lots of anger. No, Odin looked more than sad, he looked … tired. "Allfather, are you well?" he asked.

Odin smiled. "A father's heart cannot be light, when his child is troubled, Loki."

His gaze dropped as he considered his next words. A monumental pause for Silvertongue, but a mere moment for any other. He felt nothing beyond love and gratitude for this family, for all of Asgard, but he felt a heavy responsibility for what he had unleashed on Earth. "I have never regretted walking among you."

Frigga touched his face. "Yet your heart is torn between two realms. Worse you have neglected your duties as well as made mistakes that have cost others dearly."

He could not deny it. "My son," Odin said, "you must overcome your fear of Midgard, see it beyond the love of a god and chose your destiny."

Fear Earth? That didn't make any sense, but Odin raised a spear. Gabriel's spear. Unlike Thor's hammer or the Allfather's own spear, it had no name, but he'd forged it from his angel sword so it held its own power beyond a sharp point. "I, Odin Allfather, do hereby strip you of your powers," he proclaimed somehow drawing Gabriel's grace from his body and sending it flowing into the spear, "be gone from this realm until your mind and purpose are clear."

A wrenching pain, a flare of light and a roar of sound, then Gabriel was falling. He landed hard, the energies of the bifrost whirling around him like a raging storm, then something hit him.

*

Gabriel recovered his full awareness to find himself in a hospital on Earth. He was also in restraints. A vague memory of going a little crazy and showing off more strength than a human should possess tickled his mind. Okay, so dear old Dad hadn't made him fully human. Good to know especially given he had flashes of a fairly large vehicle hitting him and … a Taser. Wow, talk about a warm welcome for the first time he'd fully set foot on earth for more than a millennium.

It was easy enough to slip out of the restraints. He might not be a god or an archangel anymore, but he still knew a trick or two. But he missed his power of illusion given form when he failed to find something more substantial than a hospital gown before he had to flee.

He made it as far as the parking lot before an all too familiar vehicle backed into him. And that was how he met Drs. Kali Shankar and Frank Devereaux. At least this time their intern, Sarah Blake, didn't zap him with her Taser.

*

Gabriel knew how to blend in, knew how to pretend to be anyone or anything, but apparently he'd put his foot in his mouth during his abrupt arrival and ranted about his godly alter-ego. Hard to call take-backs after screaming he was Loki and where the fuck was his spear?

Might have been able to smile sheepishly and mutter about too much tequila, but there was a fuzzy, but distinct enough scan of his arrival pinned to Kali's whiteboard. Or at least there had been before SHIELD and Agent Henriksen had arrived and confiscated everything. Tended to lift the paranoia bar and oh, yeah, apparently Odin had sent his spear hurtling to Earth after him.

Not the best news given the damned thing could kill him. But it got worse. Some locals had found it, couldn't lift it – no doubt part of whatever plan Father had in the works – then SHIELD had cordoned off the area. So what was Odin up to? Did he want Gabriel to go on some sort of quest to retrieve it? Seemed like a pretty lame one given the thing was only 50 miles out of town. Then again it wasn't like he could miss the 'sword in the stone' vibe, and, oh, yeah, the damned thing could kill him. Really, really didn't like risking anyone else getting their hands on it, and he knew humans could be an innovative and stubborn species.

Fine, whatever. "Well, kids, it's been fun," he said, after two days of flirting with Kali drinking with Frank, and avoiding Sarah's trigger finger, "but I guess I should go check out this mysterious satellite."

"Wait," Kali said, scrambling to her feet, "you're going to walk 50 miles?"

He shrugged. Not his favorite way to pass the time, but he doubted he needed to worry about blisters. But it didn't disappoint him when she offered to give him a ride. They'd bonded the night before over tales of Yggdrasil and the Nine Realms. Truth veiled within legend and the 'joke' that he was truly Loki. Yet, despite his drunken bouts with Frank, he knew she didn't really believe Loki was an alcohol-inspired delusion.

On the drive he expected her to pump him more about how his 'delusions' fit with her work on Einstein-Rosen bridges, instead he somehow found himself talking about Castiel.  
"You love him very much."

He nodded, but his smile faded into a frown. "I made a choice for him, Kali. One I shouldn't have." He sighed. "The fallout was … is complicated, but part of it is why I'm here."

"I'm sorry for what happened, but I'm glad we met," she said, her hand moving from the wheel to give his a squeeze.

"So am I," he answered, lifting to press a kiss to the back of her hand.

*

Getting to the spear was a pain in the ass. He might not look it, but archangels were warriors of God, and he could handle himself in any fight. On the other hand violence wasn't his first or second thought to handle a problem even before he'd lost far too much grace to easily best the sort of training SHIELD required of its agents.

Normally he would have used his power to go unseen or pose as someone who belonged, but Odin had stripped him of that. It forced him to use a mortal's version of stealth against those who guarded against it for a living. When he made it all the way to the spear, he assumed they'd let him reach it, but he doubted they would enjoy the show.

Runes now decorated his weapon. Roughly translated they meant, _Whosoever holds this spear, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Loki._ Fuck. He still didn't know why Odin had done this now. He would understood if it were punishment following the creation of the Hulk or for the many other instances he'd meddled with fate when protecting Deanna's grandchildren. But not now. And he was pretty damned certain the 'if he be worthy' part was wrapped up in knowing the answer.

He sighed. Might as well finish this. He gripped the shaft and pulled. Big surprise. It didn't budge.

*

Baldur appeared to him when Henriksen stepped out of the makeshift interrogation room. He could feel the crackle of magic around his youngest brother and raised his eyebrows in surprise. Appearing on Earth without traveling the Bifrost, going unseen and unheard by others was not among Baldur's skill set. "It's good to see you, little brother," he said, not liking this one bit. "Did Odin send you?"

"He's dead, Loki."

The words were like a punch through to the heart. "No."

"The Norns whisper of a coming war. Coupled with this, your desertion of our family proved more than he could endure."

"What are you talking about? I didn't leave! He threw me out!"

A short, ugly laugh burst from his lips. It was not a sound that should ever be uttered by Baldur the Brave. "Really? Tell me, brother, in the privacy of your thoughts are you Loki or Gabriel?"

For the first time in his existence, words failed utterly.

"I thought as much. Goodbye, Gabriel. We will not meet again."

*

Gabriel smiled at Kali and spared a moment to draw her into his arms. "Been fun, babe," he said, "but vacation's over." He pressed a quick kiss to her lips. "Take care of yourself." He looked over her shoulder at Sif and the Warriors Three. Always more Castiel's friends than his own, but they had come for him. He gave them, Frank and Sarah a grin. "All of you."

Frank nodded, and they all began to move away, no doubt certain he had a better plan than getting his ass blown to bits. He turned and walked through the rubble toward the Destroyer. "I know you're watching, brother. I want you to know I deeply regret whatever made you think I did not love you all dearly, but you were right in a way."

Heaven, Asgard, he'd called both home, but since the day humanity hit the cosmic stage, he had been intrigued, seduced and enthralled. "I am Gabriel, the fourth son of Heaven. I am Loki, the eldest son of Odin and Frigga, but by whatever name I am summoned, this is my world. And I will protect it with my last breath."

The Destroyer turned as if to leave, a taunt of hope worthy of Gabriel's more vicious days, then it backhanded him, sent him flying the length of the street. Something ripped inside him, and he felt his life draining away even as he hit the ground. Hurt, but he couldn't regret it, not when it gave Kali time to reach him. Couldn't think of a better sight for his last moments.

He couldn't find the breath for words, but he managed a faint smile, then … he died. He could hear the approach of the Valkyries, could almost see his place in Valhalla, but then somehow he was on his feet, his spear landing in his hand.

His grace, his power surged into him with a near deafening crackle of energy and with a final dramatic flair he found himself dressed in his Asgardian finery. Nice. Yeah, but, focus on the bad guy time. He went with his favorite gambit – multiple copies of himself because there was no such thing as too much Loki. It tried to blast all of him, but he was masked from sight and he used his spear like a tennis racket, volleying the energy beam back to its source.

"Fun fact," he said grinning over the smoking ruin of his foe. "Most things aren't impervious to their own weapons."

*

Gabriel arrived in Odin's chamber in time to see Baldur blow Laufey, King of the Frost Giants, into atoms. And yeah, that pretty much guaranteed war with Jotunheim, but the shimmering power in the room suddenly made sense out of a lot of things. "That was the whole point of this little coup, wasn't it, brother," he said, shifting Frigga to one side.

"Loki, what are you saying?" she asked her eyes going from son to son then to where Father lay deep in the Odinsleep. "Baldur saved us."

"Yes, what are you saying, dear brother?" Baldur echoed, his hands gripping Odin's spear.

"You waited until the need for the Odinsleep was almost upon him, then suggested it was time he found a way to get me out of my room. Left you free to seize the throne and stir up things with the fucking Frost Giants."

"I was but defending our parents from invaders," Baldur answered looking wounded at the very suggestion of something more.

He snorted. "Seriously, this is all worthy of one of my better tricks. Color me totally impressed here, but it does beg the question of why you would want war."

"No one wants war, Loki, but a good king must be ready for it."

"Stole that line from Father," he said, rolling his eyes. "But there is a reason to want war – when it distracts a potential foe from a war of your own." He shook his head. "I have to admit I'm hurt you thought time would keep me from recognizing your energy, brother."

A malicious grin obscenely twisted Baldur's face. "It's been a long time, Gabriel."

"Not nearly long enough, Lucifer." He shook his head. "Really had hoped you'd gotten yourself lost on the other side of the universe for good."

"I'm hurt, little one."

"Yeah, well, probably not as much as if you'd just gotten up close and personal with the tall, shiny metal assassin, boo hoo."

Lucifer-Baldur turned Gungnir toward him, the trident points gleaming with deadly energy. "You're time among lesser beings has made you disrespectful as well as soft. There is no point in seeking an alliance with you."

"I'm crushed, truly, but I should point out something you missed, you gigantic sack of dicks."

"And what might that be?"

"The Allfather always has a purpose in what he does." Right on cue, Odin's eye snapped open and his hand shot out, ripping Gungnir from Lucifer's hands.

Gabriel spun his own spear into position, but before either of them could fire, Lucifer flowed out of Baldur in a flood of white light. "Fuck."

*

They held a grand feast to celebrate Odin's awakening, Loki's return and the fact Baldur hadn't actually turned into a power-mad douche. At least not permanently. Gabriel allowed himself to enjoy it despite a pretty impressive To Do list. He figured Odin already knew and if Father did, he'd have told Mother, but otherwise Gabriel was saving the 'I'm leaving' announcement until after the hangovers.

Last chance to enjoy his family until who knew when, and, more importantly, time to do some damage control. For instance the mopey baby brother hiding out on the balcony. He collected a couple of tankards of mead, then joined him. "Here, you look thirsty."

Baldur took it, but looked at Gabriel with watery eyes. "I'm surprised you even want to speak to me."

He sighed. "You know even better than I do there's no way to fight Lucifer once he gets inside you, so all the mayhem and bruises, totally not your fault." Except that wasn't the full story. Asgardians weren't human and Lucifer didn't need permission to possess one -- his original Father had been pretty much unconcerned with the rights of any non-humans. But … he needed a point of entry, some festering hurt to become one with until it was too late for the host to fight back. "I love you. You're my baby brother and I love you to bits."

Baldur didn't sniff. Gods never sniffed, particularly not male, adult ones, but if they did, well, Gabriel pretended not to notice the non-sniff. "You always loved Thor more."

Ouch. The words made him ache for Baldur, but what could he say? As much as he loved Baldur, it was true.

"I understand that you were both angels once, but you did not know of him when you were still in Heaven, so you have been my brother for far longer. What offense did I give that you would favor him so?"

No, no, no, no, this … just no. He pulled Baldur into his arms and hugged him close. "I love you. Do you hear me? I love you. But … I –"

"The answer is as simple as it is obvious," Odin said and while neither released the other, both turned their heads to see him standing in the doorway with Frigga.

"How so, Father?" Baldur asked, as he was an excellent baby bro who didn't make Gabriel admit he didn't see anything simple or obvious about it either.

"You and Loki are our sons," Frigga answered as their parents moved to them, "But Thor has never held such a place in our hearts for he was never truly our son."

Gabriel wanted to protest, to jump up and down and demand they love his Castiel, but he wanted answers more than he wanted to throw a fit. Close, but yeah, answers.

Odin gripped his shoulder. "Twice now, Loki, you have held the life essence of the one you call brother and reforged it anew." He gave him a gentle smile. "This is not the act of brother, but of a. …"

Damn. "But of a father," Gabriel got it. "He's my son."

"Yes," Frigga answered. "And our beloved grandson."

"It is a grandparent's privilege to indulge," Odin said. "And for this reason, you were allowed far more interference with human affairs than has been seen in many an age."

Oh.

**_Captain America: The First Avenger,_ Act II**

"So that's the whole story, kiddo," Gabriel said. In reality he was sitting on a block of ice, looking down through it to where Castiel's body rested. But hey, he knew a few tricks, so he'd opted to enter Castiel's mind and have a little sit down in a Paris café his little bro … son had always liked. "I know I overstepped my bounds by like a parsec or twelve, but It'd be great if you didn't decide you hated me right after I got my head wrapped around this whole dad thing."

Castiel sipped at a glass of a vintage cabernet and let him sweat for a few minutes. "I was angry with you for many years, but I spent little more than the blink of an eye as a human while I have loved you as a father for centuries."

"You, little shit, you knew?"

"Of course." It sounded more like 'how could you not know, dumbass,' but Gabriel figured he owed him one or 20 million give or take a thousand, so he let it slide. "Now, I wish to be released from this ice."

"I withdrew the cloaking illusion and made a few things shimmer. You'll be discovered in a couple of hours, tops."

He nodded. "It will not be easy having an awareness of the cosmos while feigning ignorance about the modern world."

"Nah, you should be low enough on the tech and pop culture side of things to pull it off." Gabriel sighed. "If you even get the chance. Lucifer won't wait long to make his move."

"But Asgard, our family, they are safe?"

"Frost Giant problems, but nothing they can't handle. I had them close down the Bifrost for the duration so they don't get caught in a second front. No telling when we'll be able to visit again." He poured himself another glass of wine. "But, hey, silver lining, I told Baldur to use the hurt puppy eyes on Sif. Think she's finally over your teenaged fling with her and is ready to move on."

"They will be good match."

"Yeah. And you'll find yours shortly."

Castiel tilted his head. "How can you be so certain?"

He smiled. "Feels like fate."

**SHIELD**

The annoying jangle of his phone forced John from a deep sleep into instant alertness. He snatched it up as Ellen bowed to the inevitable and slipped out of bed.

"What?"

"Sorry to bother you, sir," Henriksen said, "but there has been an incident with the Grail."

Damn. "We're on our way."

**Author's Note:**

> **The Cast**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Gabriel ……………… Trickster aspect of Loki/Thor (hero aspect)  
> Dean Winchester …… Tony Stark/Iron Man  
> Castiel Novack ……… Steve Rogers/Captain America/Thor (god aspect)  
> John Winchester ……. Colonel Nick Fury  
> Sam Winchester ……. Bruce Banner/Hulk  
> Ellen Harvelle ………. Maria Hill  
> Bobby Singer ……….. Colonel Phillips  
> Deanna Campbell …… Peggy Carter/Maria Stark (one generation removed)  
> Samuel Campbell …… Howard Stark (one generation removed)  
> Anna Milton ………… Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow  
> Madison …………….. Pepper Potts  
> Jake Tully …………… James "Rhodey" Rhodes (abet a less likeable version)  
> Jessica Moore ……….. Betty Ross  
> Victor Henriksen …… Phil Coulson  
> Lucifer ……………… Megalomaniac aspect of Loki  
> Kali ……………….… Jane Foster  
> Garth ……………….. Happy Hogan  
>  **Cast -- but no speaking parts in this story**
> 
> Zachariah ……………. Obadiah Stane  
> Christian Campbell …. Justin Hammer  
> Sebastian ……………. Clint Barton/Hawkeye  
> Adam Milligan..…..… Bucky Barnes  
> Sarah Blake ….……… Darcy Lewis  
> Frank Devereaux …... Erick Selvig

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Supernatural Avengers: Before Lucifer Crashed the Party (Podfic)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1323493) by [litrapod (litra)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/litra/pseuds/litrapod)




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